When I woke up this morning I was already starting to dread the training session I have at the gym at 9am tomorrow. It’s not that I’m not grateful Virgin Active personal trainer Demian is giving up his time to help me get fit for the Three Peaks, but I know he is going to tell me off because I haven’t been to the gym since my last training session with him on Tuesday.
This session was such hard work that I ached for two days afterwards. It began on the treadmill with what Demian called a warm-up, but after 10 minutes I couldn’t breathe and thought I was going to pass out. Not a good start.
I then spent the next 45 minutes doing all sorts of painful exercises to build my core muscle strength. At one point Demian said I could have a break but instead of sitting down like I had planned – he made me go on the cross trainer for 5 minutes. Not my idea of a breather.
My excuse for not training this week is that I have been enjoying a staycation. For those of you not familiar with this 21st century lingo, it’s a holiday for people who can’t afford to go away. I have been busy enjoying a visit to Lincoln, a day trip to France, a short stay in Southampton and a day out at Leeds Castle, so I’ve not had time to get down the gym.
My other excuse is that all these days out have included lots of walking (including climbing 271 steps to the top of Calais lighthouse), so I have been getting exercise of some sort.
Not to mention the fact that I have just done the equivalent of a gym session in my back garden – by taking a sledge hammer to our garden path. After four hours breaking up concrete and avoiding worms, my back aches, I’ve pulled a muscle in my side and I have a big bruise where a piece of stone hit my leg, so going to the gym doesn’t seem quite so bad. I sure I will have changed my mind again by about 9.15 tomorrow morning.
Jenni
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